1. |
Free Spirit
02:31
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Whenever the rain forced us indoors
We'd draw out this map that unlocked a thousand doors
From young we knew it all, this flawless plan
Was to be set in stone the way a marching band roams free
But stone erodes and groups disband
Under forces hard to understand
You may not even recall
Those hours spent indoors
Now plans will not dictate the life that I have
For I'm a moving circus somersaulting knife act
What started out a beautiful garden
Burgundy roses match the carpet
As for its artist who's long scarpered
Tell me how I'm meant to feel
When the artwork in question
Lies at my feet
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2. |
The Art of Conversation
04:04
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Listening only gets you so far
Enjoy this short conversation while it still lasts
I'd risk it but if I miss-hit the mark then tell me what lies in store
And here's to chance that I find the nerve to talk
In some unplanned circumstance where I've barely the strength to gawk
I only wanted to be the life and soul of every party
But there's always someone much livelier and more hearty
On a bench in the park a tasteless exhibit
Of two lovers entwined I've the misfortune to visit
They tell me "risk it for the biscuit or you'll never know"
(And still I don't know)
Because I've yet to grasp the power to speak
Maybe this feeble voice will grow up with fine physique
And I've yet to grasp the power to speak
Maybe this rasping voice will clear up by next week
Or the week after
Or the week after
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3. |
Head in the Clouds
04:02
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"You're telling me!"
I gaze out the window pretending to be in the room
I may have tuned out slightly for a sec
You see, I can be wherever I please
You're in my thoughts but only vaguely
What was it you'd said
It's troubled me the whole day
I can't recollect
If it's to be retrieved, I may need forever (and even then)
In blows the storm confusing right with left and ceiling with floor
I'm inclined to leave
Here's farewell in case I'm not seen again
I am here, you are stood just there
But from the way you're speaking as silent as a prayer
Suggests I've clearly once again resigned to my wandering mind
I lie, quite contently taken by the tide
And the storm that troubled me has drifted on
Where were we again?
I thought I heard
I thought I heard
I thought I heard
I thought I heard
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4. |
Ever-Rolling Hills
03:18
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Rediscover your old esprit
Lost deep beneath a heap of cheap antiques
Only a key need coax the ignition
And away you'll speed through the streets, taking no sneaking peaks behind
Feel the wind rush through your youthful hair
As you despairingly swear "the engine cannot be repaired!"
Turn your head three-sixty degrees
Beyond the smouldering car is a hard shoulder of ever-rolling hills
And if by some poor chance your unhappy
Take for those hills for a change of scene
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Jack Osmond London, UK
An orchestra led by a songwriter with no knowledge of music theory. What could possibly go wrong?
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